


modern intentions

by pyoilu



Category: Block B
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7055710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyoilu/pseuds/pyoilu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a boarding school AU, essentially, though there isn't much context.</p>
            </blockquote>





	modern intentions

**Author's Note:**

> it was meant to be the first part of something much longer, but i liked it this way as a oneshot or first installation to a series. i've left the ending open for possibilities~

Jihoon had been staring at himself in the mirror for something like fifteen minutes, turning to the side to look at the curve of his spine, the slight swell of his belly. Then he turned to look at himself head-on with his shirt pulled up; he really took in the sight of his ribs and how his shoulders rounded inward instead of being straight sharp lines like so many of the others in his year. He tried to square them out and pull his head back, like a marionette on taut strings, but it ached his bones to stand so straight and eventually he let himself collapse back into his usual posture. Shitty. Really shitty. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

 

He wet his hands and put the water in his hair, pushing it back in neat tracks like some old-age movie star or something. Jiho would have given him hell for it, but Jihoon liked the way it made his face look. Like he was older, maybe twenty and not the seventeen year old bag of bones he was now: all gangling limbs and too large feet. He tripped so often his knees were permanently bruised a deep purple. So he’d keep the hairstyle. It didn’t matter. It made him feel older too, like if he believed it hard enough he’d really pass for a grown man. Taeil could pass as a grown man if it wasn’t for the clothes he wore and how he rode his skateboard everywhere. It made him seem younger than even Jihoon when he’d roll through a supermarket on his long board, all his hair tucked under a ball cap. The piercings didn’t help either. But sometimes, when it was just the two of them, Taeil put all that stuff away. He’d lay on the bed without a shirt and all the muscles and bones and lines of his body would show stark below his skin and make him look like the man he nearly was. He would smile and watch the ceiling with all his hair fanned out messy on the bed sheets, his cap discarded somewhere on the floor, and when he smiled he reminded Jihoon of something delicate, like a flower blooming open in the spring. And if he caught Jihoon staring, his whole body would turn a rosy pink and he’d flip onto his stomach with his face in the pillows. It was awfully cute. Jihoon was sure Taeil was too cute to ever _really_ pass for a grown man.

 

With his hair wet and sprayed in place, Jihoon washed his face and then his neck. He made sure the cologne he wore wasn’t the spicy kind that made Taeil sneeze, but rather the floral one that Taeil commented on the most. Then he left the bathroom (right on time, he thought as more boys started to file in, wearing only towels around their narrow waists).

 

Inside his dorm he packed a small carrier. There wasn’t a whole lot he put into it. Only a change of clothes and his toothbrush, just in case he might need it to freshen up. He was still relatively new to all this and he wasn’t sure if people brushed their teeth before something like what he was about to do. Better to be safe than sorry. So he packed his toothpaste too, in case the hotel didn’t provide that, and with a book set neatly over top all his other belongings, Jihoon zipped the bag and put it over his shoulder. Yukwon wasn’t in yet, probably still down at the rec room with Jiho playing video games or shooting the shit with Minhyuk. It was hard to keep track of Yukwon most days. So Jihoon scribbled a quick note and left it on Yukwon’s pillow. It said,

 

_spending the night with Taeil hyung_

_I’ll be back by morning. In case I don’t see_

_you before you leave, have a good summer break!_

 

Jihoon read it twice over before deciding to draw a heart at the bottom of the paper. Then he turned off the dorm light, and skipped down the hall.

 

*

 

They had decided to meet in the eastern parking lot. It was always quiet there. The courtyard lay empty with stripes of bleach white sunlight all over the lawn, shining through the balding limbs of cherry trees and black cypress. Jihoon felt lonely as he walked through the courtyard where no other students were. It was strange, like being the last person on Earth. It reminded him of a movie he’d watched with Taeil back when they were younger, something like thirteen, when they used to play chess all the time and swim in the community pool on summer mornings. It had been a movie about the end of the world. Aliens, or something. They came in giant waves and started burning up the humans with laser guns. It was kind of scary. At least at thirteen. But Taeil had really liked it. He even bought a poster of it – really graphic and ugly with the aliens holding their guns – and hung it over his bed. It was probably still there now, but it had been so long since Jihoon had seen the inside of Taeil’s room back at home that it was kind of a blur. Like a poorly remembered daydream.

 

Because it was so empty around him, Jihoon watched his feet as he passed through the courtyard and tried to ignore the pulse of his own blood. It sounded heavily inside his ears, really uncomfortable like he was locked in some padded room where no noise could come through. A bird cried out somewhere far off but it wasn’t much of a comfort, just like the cicadas that began to chirrup from the tops of the trees. They sounded like tinny artificial noise as if made by some noise machine like the ones they used in movies. But then an engine revved. It was kind of startling in the way bright light was after you had sat in the dark for twenty minutes. Or the way it felt to catch the eye of someone across a room. It sent a thrill through the pit of Jihoon’s stomach. It even made his blood feel cool inside his arms. He knew if he looked away from his feet he’d find Taeil astride his motorbike, awaiting him as if he was some lover from a teenage romance film. The thought made the base of Jihoon’s spine tingle.

 

‘What’d you put in there?,’ Taeil asked, lightly smacking the side of Jihoon’s bag.

 

'Clothes.’

 

'What’s wrong with the ones you have on?’

 

Jihoon shrugged. 'What if they get dirty?’

 

Light color faded over Taeil’s cheeks. He stared at the ground with his lips parted, nodding. He put his hand in his pocket as Jihoon threw a leg over the bike and pulled out a small foil wrapper. 'I only brought this.’

 

Jihoon took one look at the condom and felt his whole body grow hot. 'Ah.’

 

'Think one’s enough?’

 

'I—’ Jihoon laughed, pained by the burning of his ears. 'I don’t know.’ They sat there a moment with the bike idling and their bodies pressed gently together before Jihoon wrapped his arms around Taeil’s stomach and offered, 'Maybe the hotel will have more?’

 

'Yeah. That's— probably.’

 

'One’s enough.’

 

'Right.’

 

Taeil put the condom back in his pocket, the two of them silently agreeing that it was fine, totally fine. They probably wouldn’t do it more than once anyway. But the truth was neither of them wanted to stop at the convenience store and buy a box of condoms while the other waited outside. It was too risky. What if one of the boys from school saw them? Or worse: a professor? That would really ruin the evening. So one was fine. If they ended up doing it again, then they could try it without one. It wasn’t as if they could get pregnant anyway.

 

'Wanna stop somewhere before the hotel?,’ Taeil asked. He passed his helmet over his shoulder for Jihoon to use. 'For dinner or something?’

 

'Not really hungry,’ Jihoon muttered lowly.

 

'They’ll probably have something there anyway.’ He seemed to be talking to himself, so Jihoon kept quiet. He strapped the helmet under his chin and placed his hands back around Taeil’s middle. With his face pressed into the curve of Taeil’s shoulder, Jihoon made himself as small as possible – which was harder with every month that passed.

 

Taeil was walking the bike away from the curb when he said, 'Let’s get a movie, alright?,’ and didn’t wait for Jihoon’s response before kicking off the ground and pulling away from campus completely.

 

*

 

The rental store was one they had gone to hundreds of times throughout the school year. They had rented everything from Charlie Chaplin and Marilyn Monroe to shitty actions flicks Minhyuk had promised would be good. They had even gone on a horror binge and rented Shutter and something called The Others, maybe it was The Eye. Either way Jihoon hadn’t slept for days. Taeil had swore nothing scared him, but Jihoon could still remember the ghost tickles of Taeil’s hands as he clung, frightened, to Jihoon’s arm that night.

 

It must have been the umpteenth time they walked through the high, plate glass doors and into the wide open room where movie cases lined the walls, the shelves, like books in a library, but it felt strange this time. The air was colder and the customers louder than any time Jihoon remembered. Even the DVD cases seemed off somehow, as if placed randomly about the room and not in alphabetical order like before. But of course this was all made up. Everything was just as it had always been.

 

'What’re you in the mood for?,’ Taeil asked, distractedly. He was already walking up and down the aisles, dragging a finger over the DVD spines as he passed them.

 

'Anything.’

 

'Liar.’

 

Jihoon smiled to himself. 'I really don’t care, hyung.’

 

'Fine. What about this?’ He held up something called Letters to God that looked so corny it made Jihoon sputter. 'Thought so,’ he smiled.

 

The urge to lean in and kiss the curled edge of Taeil’s mouth was so fierce Jihoon blushed. He stepped back as if stumbling and grabbed the first movie he saw.

 

Taeil hooked his chin over Jihoon’s shoulder and said: 'That looks even worse. But alright. If you want it, I don’t care.’

 

'No, I… I don’t.’

 

'What’s up with you, huh.’ He nudged Jihoon gently, a smile loud in his tone as he pointed out, 'Your face is all pink, Jihoonie.’

 

'Nothing.’

 

'Huh?’

 

'I said _nothing_.’

 

Taeil was really on a roll now. He was giggling and poking at Jihoon’s side as if meaning to tickle him. It was the worst time to play around, what with all the older people in the store, looking over at the two of them. But Jihoon stopped caring after realizing Taeil didn’t give a shit about the people looking at him.

 

’ _Hyung_ , don’t play right now.’

 

'What’s the big deal,’ he laughed. He kept nudging Jihoon like he wanted to fight. Jihoon thought it was really cute, especially because Taeil was perched up on his tip toes. He would bet anything Taeil didn’t even notice this.

 

'You look grumpy,’ Taeil teased. 'You shouldn’t look grumpy today, Jihoonie. You know why, right? You should look excited.’

 

This made Jihoon’s ears burn even hotter than before. He laughed and tucked his chin to his chest wishing that Taeil wouldn’t play around so boldly when other people could hear them. But he knew it didn’t really matter.

 

'Okay,’ Taeil sighed. He’d lost interest and was backing away. 'We won’t get any Jesus movies. I kind of, um, want something cute anyway.’

 

'Something romantic?,’ Jihoon said. It was meant to be a joke, but Taeil nodded without looking at him so he hadn’t seen the taunting glimmer in Jihoon’s eyes. Probably best that way.

 

'Really, hyung?’ He came closer and could smell the cologne Taeil was wearing. It must have been new; Jihoon couldn’t remember ever smelling it before. It was really strong and masculine, like something his father would wear. But it was nice.

 

Leaning in, Jihoon put the tip of his nose atop Taeil’s head. He breathed deeply, trying not to outright sniff Taeil’s hair, but it happened and it was obvious. Taeil laughed and pulled away, calling him an idiot as he did so.

 

'You smell good,’ Jihoon said, defensively. He pouted and said, 'Hey, hyung,’ while looking over his shoulder. All the other customers seemed busy with their own things. Old women clustered together in the back of the store near the classic films and old romances that Jihoon was sure the two of them would end up looking through in a couple minutes. There was a young couple in the Teen section, immersed within themselves; nothing mattered to them, nor the others that stood in line to check out their movies. Everyone was occupied.

 

Taeil was still looking at the movie covers when he asked, 'What is it?’ And when Jihoon didn’t respond right away, he looked over his shoulder expectantly. It was then Jihoon leaned in – not as quickly as he might have had he thought a little longer about it – and kissed Taeil’s mouth.

 

Taeil tried to pull away but there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. He was between Jihoon and the movie rack: stuck. He managed to wriggle away far enough to whisper, kind of angrily, 'What are you _doing_ , Jihoonie.’

 

'No one’s looking,’ Jihoon whispered back.

 

It might have been the way Jihoon had talked. All soft and timid as if he was waiting to be scolded. Or it could have just been that Taeil didn’t really care, but he let Jihoon kiss him again despite where they were. He kissed back, too. Fervent and deeply, as if they were alone. Taeil always had this way of one-upping Jihoon, whether he meant to or not. It just sort of happened. He did it now with the way his mouth opened and how he sucked lightly at Jihoon’s lips. His fingers brushed over the front of Jihoon’s shirt and that was really pressing it, so Jihoon moved away with his eyes still closed and his mouth still puckered like he wanted another kiss.

 

'Okay,’ he said quickly and moved even farther away. 'Go pick a movie.’

 

Taeil took the sleeve of Jihoon’s shirt and lead them toward the classic Hollywood section – exactly where Jihoon had suspected they’d end up – laughing all the time. It was a quiet laugh. Very breathy as if he was snickering only to himself. But as his hand lingered on the movie titles he leaned his head against Jihoon’s chest and pressed his face there and said, 'You’re really cute sometimes,’ like it was a compliment and not a jab – which Jihoon was sure it was. He knew Taeil was laughing at him then, and couldn’t help but laugh too. Equally as quiet, like it was some private joke between them. It hit him quite suddenly then: that Taeil was leaving. It came harder than all the times before as he watched, slightly dejected and filling with gloom, as Taeil reached for It Happened One Night. They’d watched it once before when they were kids – _real_ kids.  Young and still living at home rather in the boarding schools’ dorms. They each had their own homes and their own streets, too far from one another to comfortably walk between houses after dark but still they had done it. Fairly often, too, though it was mostly Taeil who made the trek in the pitch dark under sallow street lamps, pretending to be unaffected but falling quickly into Jihoon’s room all the same, as if wanting to be out of the dark as fast as possible. 

 

It had been one of those dark nights when Taeil had brought It Happened One Night and slipped it in the DVD player in Jihoon’s room, and they had stayed up most of the night to watch it. Those old films could become really long if you didn’t pay attention to them. At least they _felt_ long to Jihoon who didn’t really know what was going on most of the time. He’d follow the characters and could hear them speak easily enough, especially because Taeil had a knack for subtitles and kind of hated films that had been dubbed. He was a snob like that. But it was okay. Jihoon could follow closer that way and hardly got confused like he usually did. But that night it had been particularly hard, like they were watching some film on the metric system and not one about a guy falling for a rich girl.

 

Taeil had loved it. That’s all Jihoon could remember clearly. Taeil had laughed and he’d looked so happy when the couple inevitably fell in love – they were always falling in love in those old Hollywood films – and he’d looked really handsome sitting in the dark with the black and white glow all over his face. No color. Just him. He’d had his hand on Jihoon’s leg the whole night. It’d been one of the first times he’d touched Jihoon like that and a week later Taeil had kissed him. It hadn’t been anything special, just a quick peck on the cheek, but it had been enough.

 

Taeil held the DVD over his shoulder for Jihoon to take as he continued down the line of films. Soon Jihoon was holding Niagara and Gone With The Wind, which might have been just a joke. No one really had time for a four hour epic, but maybe they’d try. And by the time Taeil was finished the sun had fallen low beyond the pines and the sky had turned an ardent red that burst like flames from behind thick grey clouds. Summer storms were Jihoon’s favorite and as he mounted the back of Taeil’s bike for the last time for a long time he held firm to Taeil’s middle with the movies stashed safely inside his zipped up jacket, and he hoped it would rain that night. He wanted to open the windows and smoke with the cold and feel the humidity wash over him, sticky and thick, the next morning. He wanted to wake in an air conditioned room with Taeil wrapped all around him and the sheets damp with sweat. the windows foggy with the heat and the rain and the omnipresent winds; he thought nothing sounded better.

 

*

 

Thunder rumbled, but the rain never came. It hung heavy overhead just outside the hotel window; the winds dispersed in sporadic gusts that rocked the trees and shook the windows in their frames. But the rain simply didn’t come. Jihoon didn’t stop hoping for it though. He stood by the window with his arms wrapped about himself as if suddenly cold though the room was stifling, and he watched the sky and hoped for the rain. Just a little bit of it. Enough that he could open the window and let the water in and feel it speckle his arms like dew drops.

 

Taeil was somewhere in the bathroom. They’d been there no more than twenty minutes and Taeil hadn’t come out of the bathroom since. He took a shower and must have shaved – he’d taken a razor from the toiletries cabinet beside the mini bar – and was blow drying his hair now. Jihoon could hear it whirling behind the closed door, and he was a little glad that Taeil was taking so long. Sometime between their arrival and now anxiety had sank like a large stone into the bowels of Jihoon’s stomach. It rest there burbling, cramping his stomach and making the whole world feel ugly. He’d actually thought he might throw up, but the feeling had passed and had only left a slight discomfort like nausea in the back of his throat.

 

The wind was helping. He watched it carefully: the sway of the trees and how they leaned like soldiers against the black of the sky, silhouetted like a painting. Leaves fluttered and fell; a cyclonic downfall of flowers from tree limbs, floral bushes, a smattering of petals all over the ground. It was really pretty. He might have taken a picture had he thought to.

 

Taeil came from the bathroom with a wave of fog following behind him. His wet hair dripping and towel dried. He asked, 'Feeling better?’

 

Jihoon’s ears reddened. He nodded.

 

They stayed in silence for what felt like a long time. The room across from their own – which had been a focal point for Jihoon the last ten minutes – grew dark as the occupant either left or went to bed. There was a particularly harsh gust of wind that rumbled heavily outside, howling eerily.

 

'I know we’ve been talking about this for a while,’ Taeil began slowly. He spoke as if wanting to get every word just right. 'But if you changed your mind, I wouldn’t be upset.’

 

Jihoon glanced over his shoulder, something like regret flooding into him. He shook his head. 'No, I want to.’ The very idea of not having Taeil was enough to sober the discomfort in his gut. 'I do. I’m just nervous.’

 

There was no telling if Taeil believed him. Stolidly, he crossed the room with only a towel about his waist and water dripping from the ends of his hair. He hooked his chin over Jihoon’s shoulder, his chest broad and hard against Jihoon’s back.

 

'Maybe a shower will help?’

 

'Probably,’ Jihoon agreed.

 

'Then…’ Taeil nudged him.

 

'Ok, but did you use all the hot water?’

 

Taeil made a face. 'Ah…’

 

Jihoon didn’t really mind either way. He didn’t think a hot shower was going to help his nerves so much as a cold one might and the water wasn’t _really_ cold, only a little chilly.

 

He stayed in long enough to wash his hair with the shampoo that smelled of lilacs and lavender and to scrub his body with the hotel soap that was hard as stone but smelled better than the soap they were given back at the school. It made his skin dewy soft as if he’d just shaved, and he’d felt especially freshened afterward as if he hadn’t taken a shower in days. There was something nice, too, about coming out of a shower in a brand new place. The mirror was clear of fog but dripped with slight condensation, like how a window might after you’ve taken your car in for a wash; it was comforting in some way. So he stood there in front of the dripping mirror, giving his body one last long look. His skin was bare and slightly damp with a smidgen of pink from the chilled water. It brought a flush to his cheeks and his neck, his shoulders glossy with water. He liked the way he looked there, in front of that mirror, and so he didn’t bother with the towel or any clothes at all. He let his hair drip dry and left the rest of himself sticky and wet as he stumbled gently from the bathroom and into the hotel room with nothing on.

 

Taeil was sat on the bed in his underwear. His glasses were off, folded neatly on the side table; time froze solid as their eyes met.

 

'Ah,’ Taeil whispered.

 

Unsure of himself and where his hands should be, Jihoon stood with his fingers twisted together as if trying to wring his hands of water.

 

Taeil said, 'come here,’ in a voice strained and hard to hear even in the stark silence of the room. Then, after Jihoon was close enough to touch, he wrapped a hand delicately about Jihoon’s wrist. 'You’re sure you still wanna do this?’

 

Jihoon nodded strongly. He didn’t trust his voice not to waver and so didn’t use it.

 

Taeil bit his lips into his mouth. He didn’t look convinced; and suddenly then something dawned on Jihoon that made his stomach twist near painfully.

 

'Do _you_?,’ he said loudly. Too loudly. He cringed at how hard his voice sounded.

 

'I do,’ Taeil said. Then, a little louder, as if wanting to match Jihoon’s outburst, 'I do, ok?’

 

All at once he took Jihoon into his arms and placed him on the bed. Their mouths met and it was fervent: lips parting widely for one another as hands grabbed at everything they could touch. Taeil braced a hand on either side of Jihoon’s face as he slipped his tongue past Jihoon’s teeth, messy and bold; too much at once. Jihoon was already trembling. Whether it was from Taeil’s hands pressing hard into his skin or the taste of his mouth and the promise of his body that had him trembling he was unsure, he only knew that he was on fire. Burning hard and fast; his whole heart ready to burst.

 

Taeil touched him and Jihoon was sure he was going to die beneath those hands.

 

They had messed around before. Quite a few times if Jihoon was to be honest about it. There had been days they’d cut class to spend hours kissing on Jihoon’s bed and times when Taeil’s hands had found their way up the front of Jihoon’s shirt. There had been summer nights – after borrowing Jihoon’s father’s car – they’d wound up in the back seat with Taeil between his legs and the press of his cock digging hard into Jihoon’s thigh, but that had been the extent of any physical promises. They’d seen each other naked, they’d slept in only their underwear. They had even made out one night with all the lights off and Taeil’s hand down the front of Jihoon’s sleep pants, but nothing had ever gone farther and now, as Taeil crawled shakily between Jihoon’s widely spread legs, it was sheer astonishment at what they were about to do that kept them both from bursting at the seams.

 

'Think it’s gonna hurt?,’ Jihoon asked, breathlessly.

 

'Yeah. But'—Taeil touched his mouth over the rising pulse in Jihoon’s neck—'I’ll try my best not to hurt you.’

 

It was the corniest thing Taeil had ever said. Jihoon would have laughed any other time. Really, it sounded like something from a terrible romance flick: _I’ll try my best not to hurt you_. But the thing was: when Taeil said it, Jihoon believed him. It made his bones melt and all his muscles loosen. He could feel it like something physical as his heart stopped pounding and his worries fell away like water trickling down the knobs of his spine. He relaxed as Taeil kissed him and he really thought it wouldn’t hurt because Taeil said he’d try his best. But it _did_ hurt. Miserably. But then Taeil stopped trying so hard and let his hands do most of the work and some time later after the shock wore off and Jihoon lay limp and boneless on the coverlet with bursts of light like stars exploding behind his rolled back eyes, he thought the pain was alright – it was worth it – to have Taeil so close. And what was awkward at first, limbs and hands and teeth crashing like waves against each other, evened out; Jihoon, with hands grasping Taeil’s shoulder blades, bit hard into his lower lip as the world turned dark and his body caught fire. Everything forgotten except the roll of Taeil’s hips and the taste of his tongue.

 

*

 

'Gonna stand there all night?,’ Taeil teased lightly. He was in bed with his back to the headboard and the blankets pooled about his waist. Jihoon had felt Taeil’s weighty gaze bear into the back of his head for the last ten minutes but hadn’t mentioned it.

 

Now, looking over his shoulder, his cigarette smoldering between his teeth, Jihoon shrugged. 'Probably.’

 

'Why don’t you come here?’

 

'In a minute.’ He turned back to the window, smoke blowing like dirty rain clouds from his nose, and watched as the light flickered on in the room across from their own. Then the room above that turned black and all the lights seemed to dance from one window to another: people coming and going and sleeping and rising,  slipping in and out of their hotel rooms. It was depressing in some odd way that Jihoon couldn’t pinpoint. It made his chest ache as if someone had hit him there.

 

'Do you feel lonely?,’ Jihoon asked suddenly. He dropped the half smoked cigarette out the window, not bothering to extinguish it.

 

'You’re here. Why would I feel lonely?’

 

Jihoon paused. He thought a moment. 'What about when you think about tomorrow? Do you feel it then.’

 

Taeil hesitated. 'Yeah,’ he sighed. 'Is that what you’re thinking about?’ He pushed away from the headboard and let the blankets untangle from his legs as he left the bed and came to stand a hairsbreadth away. He leaned his warm forehead to the cusp of Jihoon’s shoulder.

 

'We have the summer,’ Taeil said.

 

'Right.’

 

'It’s not like I’m dying,’ Taeil said.

 

'I know.’

 

'Think about something else.’

 

Jihoon nodded and rest his cheek to the top of Taeil’s head. He knew Taeil hated it when he did that, but with his arms about Taeil’s shoulders it was the only place for his cheek to go.

 

A short while later, after all the lights across the way had turned out and theirs was the only one still lit, Taeil moved to shut off the lamp and plug in the TV. He played Gone With The Wind and fell asleep before it was half over, cradling Jihoon close to his chest. But Jihoon couldn’t sleep. He’d close his eyes and stare at the back of his eyelids, watching as color blossomed like fireworks in the dark. He listened as the movie played and understood very little of it but enough to wonder how terrible it must be to love someone who didn’t love you back. He wondered if Taeil loved him, and if he did: would it stay that way even after the months apart and the space set between them. Or would Taeil replace him with a girl who wore her hair long all the way down her back, or a boy that looked just like Jihoon he could bed some months into the school year. It was depressing; too much to think about all at once, so Jihoon thought of the summers they had spent together instead. He thought of biking downhill at full speed without worry and the scrape of bark against his palms, his knees, as they climbed lakeside trees where hornets nested and large birds called ugly from the very top. There had been sweltering nights at the drive-in, lifting candy bars from convenient stores to share on their walks home, and later: evenings spent in the school library reading Fitzgerald and listening – completely enamored – as Taeil read from his book of sonnets in a voice that was meant to be comical but was nothing but handsome to Jihoon.

 

Nuzzling his face into the hard front of Taeil’s chest, Jihoon made inadvertent fists as he tried to pull their bodies closer, all the memories flooding like bile from the back of his head to swim uncomfortable behind closed eyes. It was nearly dawn by the time sleep fell into him, and even then it fell as a thin sheet: easily looked through and felt all over like a physical presence that was hard to breathe beneath.

 

He slept and when he woke Taeil was in the bathroom, undoubtedly brushing his teeth – he was always doing that before Jihoon could see him first thing in the morning, and when he came back the bed had already turned cold. Jihoon thought: this was something he’d have to get used to.

 

*

 

Taeil had offered to drive him back to campus, there was still a couple things Jihoon had left to pack before heading home. But he knew Taeil had an interview with the college to tend to and his sister had been calling his cell all morning. So he’d let Taeil kiss his cheek and told him they’d see each other later that evening, or at least later in the week after Taeil was finished with the paperwork for his new school and his mother stopped coddling him so much. Mother’s got that way when their kids had been away from home for so long, Jihoon knew all about this.

 

There was something about the rumble of trains in the train station and how loudly their brakes squealed like grinding metal that set Jihoon at ease; it hurt his ears but in a pleasant way as if reminding him of where he was. Jihoon kept his window open and rest his temple to the pane, listening to the wheels on the tracks and the echo in the intestinal tunnels of the station until they were finally out in the open and in the fresh air, not far from the school. He could see it in the distance like a giant looming bird, awaiting his arrival. And as they drove nearer all Jihoon could think of was Taeil and Taeil’s hands, his body and how it’d felt to be close to him; and he thought of the way Taeil’s hips had moved and his thighs had trembled and how he’d kissed Jihoon slowly with his tongue pressed lightly to Jihoon’s lower lip. It sent a fire blazing in the pit of his stomach that pushed up past his heart up into his throat where it crackled and burned and made it difficult to breathe.

 

*

 

Yukwon was on the bed flipping through a stack of books that looked fairly new when Jihoon shouldered into the room, forty minutes later. They smiled at one another, very small and strained as if neither of them particularly felt like smiling in the first place.

 

'Minhyuk left these,’ Yukwon said. 'I didn’t have the guts to tell him I don’t read anymore.’

 

Jihoon shrugged. 'Tough.’

 

'I don’t really want them.’

 

'I bet they’re good.’

 

'Yeah,’ Yukwon muttered. He shoveled them into his suitcase and kicked the case toward the door. 'You have a good time?’

 

Jihoon gave another shrug. It was all he could really do. He’d kind of forgotten how to speak. He lit a cigarette then, and offered one to Yukwon who took it and lit it off the burning tip of Jihoon’s own; and together they sat in the window seat with the window pushed out, air like warm breath blowing gently against their faces.

 

Yukwon muttered, 'You’ll miss him?’

 

'You won’t?,’ Jihoon said just as softly.

 

'I will. But he’ll be back.’

 

He sighed. 'Yeah.’

 

'It’s the truth, you know.’

 

With a nod Jihoon leaned his head to the wall, plumes of smoke rising like frost toward the window pane. He smiled with the very edge of his mouth when Yukwon touched his knee and told him, 'You can’t cry about it forever. Anyway, you’ll still have me. Remember?’ Yukwon smiled brightly. 'That’s, like, just as good, right? Maybe better.’

 

Jihoon snorted a laugh despite himself. He had to appreciate Yukwon, he really did.

 

The winds turned hot quickly after their third cigarette; warm with afternoon sun and thick with humidity. Jihoon closed the window and packed his last bag, grateful all the while for Yukwon who waited patiently on his side of the room.

 

Later, after they’d left for the three o'clock train out of Daegu, Jihoon rest his head to the train wall and he slept, the weight of Yukwon against his shoulder a distant comfort. He dreamt of nothing he could remember and woke thinking only of Taeil.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to follow my [tumblr](http://pyoilu.tumblr.com/) or my [twitter](https://twitter.com/_taeilu)! i'd love to talk with anyone about lovely taepyo ;;;;


End file.
